


tender is the morning

by GalaxyGhosty



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Light BDSM, M/M, Safeword Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 14:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13743201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: AU. “Safewords are there for a reason, Jack.”





	tender is the morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PoemIsDead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoemIsDead/gifts), [tfwfangirlsatk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfwfangirlsatk/gifts).



> Another short piece for my discord pals--wanted some good aftercare! I rarely see fics where aftercare is explicitly talked about, and I was interested in doing a fic where we got to see some good and gentle aftercare. That said, I did some research and so if this isn't quite correct, my apologizes! 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for stopping by! Had a good time experimenting with this fic :)

“Look at you, trembling like some cheap whore. You loved to be used by me, don’t you?” 

Jack’s throat lets out a garbled sob, wrapping the little bit of slack of rope between his already bound hands. His knees dig into the mattress, the sheets twisting around him, the frame squeaking with every hard slap that Dark delivers to his ass. 

This is pretty normal. Dark _loves_ to talk dirty, loves to tell Jack exactly how he looks, spread out beneath him, moaning and crying and begging to be filled. He loves to let Jack know how filthy and _perfect_ he looks, something to be owned and possessed. It’s not uncommon for him to tease Jack for _hours_ , and he loves Jack in a cock ring, finds him to be gorgeous when he’s needy, desperate to get off. 

Jack has been particularly naughty these last couple weeks, and even in tonight--forgetting his sirs and masters, touching himself without permission. It’s one of the reasons that he’s currently wearing the vibrating ring, keeping him hard and uncomfortable for god knows how long, on and off, and Jack will genuinely be surprised if he’s allowed to cum tonight, or if Dark will make him wait for how bad he’s been. To complement this, Dark’s using his _favorite_ flogger, the leather of it stinging with every slap. 

“You’re not paying attention, _pet_ ,” Dark’s voice comes back into reality, his hand tugging viciously at his locks. His neck strains, looking out of the corner of his eye to his dom. “I asked you a question.” 

“S-sorry, sir,” Jack murmurs, as Dark lets go. “I don’t...know what you said.”

He feels the smile in Dark’s voice. “What number are you on?” 

Fuck. Jack searches his brain for the last number he’d counted. Nothing comes up, nothing jumps forward in his memory--he swallows. Jack attempts to tuck his head into his arm, almost frightened as he murmurs out, “I-I don’t remember.”

“No matter,” Dark says airily. “We’ll start again. Pay _attention_.”

The next hit comes heavier than the one before it, and Jack hisses at the sting, rippling up his ass, down his thighs. There’s an expectant pause, and the number fumbles from his mouth, “One.” 

“Good boy,” Dark praises. “Keep up this time.” 

The next hit smack comes sharper, the skin tender and raw. Jack gasps, sinking his teeth into his lower lip in order to dampen the sound as he mumbles out the next number. “Two.”

“You know I love to hear those pretty sounds,” Dark drawls out. He rakes his nails gently over his reddening ass, causing him to jolt. “Don’t make me drag them out of you, pet.” 

Jack heaves out a huge breath, trying to ignore the shaking in his hands. Normally, he’d have a cheeky retort, or a polite affirmation for his master’s request, but the words--they won’t come out, awkward and cotton in his mouth. He says nothing, tugging at the ropes again, hoping that the burn of it will bring him back, or at least help him forget. 

By the time he reaches fifteen, he’s crying, and he’s not sure if it’s the pain that’s hurting him or if it’s something else. His knees are on fire, aching from supporting his weight in such a fashion, and the collar around his neck feels too tight. He swallows, throat bobbing as Dark stows his flogger away, coming back moments later to breach him with cold, lube-slicked fingers. 

“Master,” Jack begins, his voice low, uncertain. “I--”

“Did I say you could speak to me?” Dark growls, twisting his finger. Jack chokes on his own saliva. He slips in a second finger within seconds, the stretch and burn a little worse than usual. “Keep your mouth shut, pet, unless it’s for those pretty little screams I like to hear. Understand?”

Jack pushes back down the gnawing anxiety, wiggling his hips, trying to adjust to the sensation. He keens when Dark presses on his prostate, his moan coming out in a shudder, broken. He’s merciless in his pursuit, scissoring his fingers, stretching out his rim. It’s not long before a third one goes in, and it _burns_ , horribly so, and Jack thinks that the tears are legitimate this time.

He says nothing, the words dying his throat. He knows the word he should use, right now, but nothing comes out. A fear settles into him, fear of disappointing Dark, fear that he won’t _stop_. Him and Dark have only been together for a couple months, and the anxiousness that Dark isn’t exactly the most understanding of doms still looms over him. They’re not really _dating_ \--they sleep together a lot, and Dark buys him dinner, they spend nights together, but they’re still--Dark doesn’t seem the cutesy type. After scenes, he’ll run baths for him, wrap him up in blankets, but it’s not--it never feels particular to him. Sometimes he thinks Dark’s just into him for his body, and that--

That would make sense, wouldn’t it?

Jack lets out a slow, labored breath as Dark pushes a plug inside of him, cold and solid. He shivers, robbed of the satisfaction of being fucked, and shit, at least if Dark’s cock is in him, it’s hard to think about anything else except being filled. 

“Please,” he whispers, perhaps more desperate than he intends. “Please, Dark, just--” 

Dark doesn’t answer, delivering a sharp slap to his already sensitive ass with a loud _smack_. The moan that escapes his lips he’s sure isn’t from pleasure, but fear. “Only good boys get their master’s cock, and _you_ , pet, have not earned it.” 

The ring around his erection, which had been previously turned off for a brief period, flickers to life, and his body trembles. He just wants to cum, he wants to cum so goddamn bad, but not because he wants to be good, or he wants to feel good, he just wants the relief--he wanted the scene to be over. 

_Red_ , he thinks. The word won’t come out. _Red red red red red_

His lips don’t move. Dark continues his slow torment, fucking him gently with the plug in his ass. His hands smooth along the curves of his back, but once they dip down, finally grabbing his aching, vibrating cock, Jack breaks. 

“ _Red_ ,” he sobs out, his whole form exploding into both tears and tremors. “Red, red, red, red, please, god, Dark, red. _Red_.”

And for a moment, nothing happens. A fear grips him, doesn’t let go, because he’s helpless like this, a plug in his ass, hands tied up, and Dark could leave him like this, could fuck him like this and he’s so scared of that, suddenly, like he’s never been scared of anything else.

But then the ring’s turning off, and after a few moments of fiddling, it’s slipping off, and without so much as a word, Jack’s coming, hurling into him like a goddamn train. He can hardly see, his face a mess of sweat and tears, and everything happens in order; plug’s out, hands are untied, collar’s off. Jack braces his hands against the mattress, wobbly, and Dark’s strong hands are holding him by the shoulders, easing him down. 

“Shh, shh,” and this is the softest Dark’s voice has ever been, his hands gripping him gently, tenderly. His thumb wipes away the tears that refuse to stop falling from his eyes. Never has he seen or felt Dark be this gentle with him--he swears he detects something fretful in his demeanor. “Shh, it’s okay, Sean, it’s okay. You’re alright. We’re done, it’s done.” 

Dark puts his hand in his, and Jack grips it tight, squeezing, trying to breathe in, unable to find his voice, as though using his safeword had taken everything he had in him. His partner rubs his shoulder soothingly, leaning down to press soft kisses to his skin. “Breathe in, breathe out. There you go, darling. There you go.”

After what feels like forever, his breathing evens out, and he wipes away the last remnants of his hysteria. He curls up on his side, still naked and a hot shame washes over him. He can’t look Dark in the eye as he murmurs out, “I’ll be right back, okay?” 

The sound of water running in the bathroom does nothing to calm his nerves, and Jack replays the last few minutes in his mind. He’s done this with Dark so many times--how could now have frightened him? Dark’s left him more immobile than this on countless occasions--he’s had him bound, spread eagle, vibrator up his ass, and he’s _left_ him there, and that didn’t scare him. How could this have scared him? 

Dark reenters the room, carefully lifting him into his arms. Jack lays his head on his shoulder for the duration of the walk, and the sweet smell of lavender hits him moments before Dark lowers him into the bath. He hisses, his bum stinging with both the warmth of the water and the contact, but overall, it feels good. His anxiety begins to dwindle, steamed away, and Dark remains by the side of the bath, washing his neck, stomach, back. 

When he’s done, Dark wraps him in a fresh towel, leaving him to get dressed. On the sink, his favorite pajamas rest there, worn but clean, one of Dark’s loose cardigans present as well. Jack pulls it on over his head, breathing in the soft scent of his cologne, the detergent, and it feels like home. He twirls the fabric between his fingers for a bit, before he finally opens the door. 

The old sheets are on the floor, in the process of being replaced by deft fingers. Dark smoothes the wrinkles out, all of their toys and rope and devices locked away in the dresser. His partner glides over, putting a gentle, almost asking arm around him as he guides him towards the bed, and it doesn’t feel as heavy, this round. Usually when they go to bed together, it’s sex, it’s always sex, or post-sex, or dealing in sex. He’s almost scared that’s what’s going to happen now. Even vanilla sex boils the anxiety in his stomach. 

But Dark doesn’t do much of anything. He helps Jack into bed, pulling the sheets over him, as though tucking him in. It’s strange, because Dark never felt like the domestic sort to him, never felt like the type to be nurturing, caring. His dark eyes betray nothing, and in a way, Jack’s unsettled by this. But he doesn’t say anything. 

“Do you want something to eat?” he asks, the first question, the first spoken words since before the bath. 

Jack shakes his head. Dark frowns, but doesn’t argue. Instead, he settles for sitting at the foot of the bed.

Nothing is spoken for a while. Jack presses his face into the sheets, trying to overcome the ugly, shameful monster clawing at him yet again. Tonight was supposed to be fun. Whenever they’re together, it’s fun. Jack’s ruined it, and now the one good thing Dark might have actually liked about him, he’s thrown away. 

“Do you want me closer?” and Jack’s got no answer but yes to that. He’s craving contact that’s not--that’s not _violent_ , not even in the fun way. 

His partner wastes no time, then, siddling up the bed. He slides in next to him, a warm beacon, an anchor, almost. Jack gravitates towards him, surprised that Dark so willingly puts his arm around him, pulling him close against his chest, and god, god he feels safe. He presses his face into his neck, breathing him in. He almost starts crying again. 

Once he’s comfortable, Dark raises his other hand, slowly reaching down to pet his hair. Jack closes his eyes, relishing in the way Dark combs his fingers through, like he’s got all the time in the world. 

He’s close to sleep when Dark’s voice reaches him again, low in his chest. “Are you alright?” 

“Mm,” Jack hums in response. 

Another pause. “Safewords are there for a reason, Jack.” 

“I know.”

“You didn’t use it.”

“I did.” 

Dark’s hand stalls. “When you were far past your threshold. Don’t think I didn’t notice how it left your mouth. It wasn’t a sudden realization. It was built up fear.”

Jack grips his shirt tight. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Good Christ,” Dark breathes. “Do you realize that it brings me absolutely no joy to put you in pain that you do not consent to?” 

He says nothing, and he supposes that’s his answer. 

“This...relationship is built on trust,” his partner begins, almost awkward. “You trust me with your security. Your safety. Your well-being. And in exchange, I make you feel good. I show you that giving up control can be pleasurable, to say the least. I hurt you with the intention of making you feel sensations that you desire. I hurt you, knowing that is what you want. Your safeword is there for you to use if I overstep boundaries, or if for any reason you are scared and uncomfortable.” 

Dark pushes on his shoulder, just a fraction, and Jack looks up at him. “I apologize for not...ensuring you were alright. It was my mistake to not confirm that what I was doing was still...desirable on your end. I hope...you can forgive me for this.” 

In a surprising act of intimacy, then, Dark kisses him on the forehead, a soft, lingering sensation, and Jack squirms a bit, face heating up. “It’s--it’s fine, it’s just--it’s just me. I don’t--we’ve been--we’ve _done_ worse--”

“Sean, if there is one thing I am certain of,” he intones quietly, “is that it’s most certainly _not_ fine. What we have done in the past is moot to your current situation. We could have done this very scene twenty times, and if on this go you got scared, it’s all the same. I am...devastated that you...felt so insecure that you couldn’t say it sooner. That I did not make it clear to you that you will _never_ disappoint me by ending it, prematurely or otherwise. I am sorry that I gave you impression that I would be upset at your request to stop, or worse, not stop entirely.” 

Jack says nothing, allowing Dark to just...speak to him in such a calm way, so genuine and sincere. “Your health, physical and mental, will always be more important than my sexual gratification.”

Nuzzling closer, Jack relishes in the contact. “I just...wanted to be good for you.”

“Darling,” and there’s the pet name again, the one so soft, so sweet on Dark’s tongue, on Jack’s ears. “I don’t think it’s possible for you not to be.” 

And damn if that doesn’t do him in. His throat emits an unflattering noise, the strangled cousin of happiness, relief, and embarrassment. Dark seems amused by this, at least for a moment. 

“That said,” he says, running his hand down his back. “I think we should...abstain from activities for the time being.” 

Jack lets out a slow sigh. His relationship with Dark at this point has been built on sex, but for now... “That...might be best. I’m sor--”

“Do not apologize,” Dark cuts him off, pointed and matter-o-fact. “This gives me ample opportunity to court you properly, before we proceed further with our…relationship.”

A soft laugh bubbles in his throat as he presses his face into the crook of Dark’s neck. “Did you really just say you were going to court me?”

“Is that not what people do?” Dark hums, and Jack feels the vibrations all the way down to his core. “Is it not my job to spoil you with gifts, dinner, suffocate you in affection?” 

Jack presses his lips to the skin of his neck, less of a kiss than it should be, but contact nonetheless. “We just call that dating, Dark.” 

“Go to sleep,” he orders, a fond exasperation. “We can argue about the semantics in the morning over breakfast.” 

“Pancakes?” 

“If you go to sleep,” Dark promises, “I’ll give you whatever it is that you want.” 

And Jack’s inclined to listen.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Thank you so much! Feel free to chat with me over at voidskelly.tumblr.com!


End file.
